Part 1:
The girls next door
Lucas took his engorged penis in his right hand and persuaded it into his swimming trunks. He'd had the trunks since the summer before last, and now that he was eighteen he was taller and much sturdier. They fitted low and too snugly, and he had to arrange his sexual organ on an upward diagonal to avoid giving it an uncomfortable kink. He tucked a stray lock of brown-blond curly hair under the waistband and wished he hadn't lost this year's trunks, the ones he raced in, at the training pool.
Then he peered furtively round his bedroom curtain. The window was open and he had heard splashing from the garden next door. He knew what that meant, and it had caused his semi-erection. Two women had recently moved in, renting the dilapidated Victorian house for a few months. It was another record-breaking summer across southern England, and they had immediately put up a big, sky-blue portable pool.
One of the women looked three or four years older than him, and the other was a fair bit older still. They restored classic cars. There was a sports car parked outside the battered front door, on the gravel of the semicircular drive, almost hidden by overgrown laurels. His father's eyes had lit up when he spied it, and he had murmured, 'Austin Healey!' Then, when he had seen two women working on it, he had snorted with disgust. His father held traditional views on women's capabilities.
Surely it would be all right for Lucas to put his head over the fence and ask to use the pool with them, just to cool off.
The older one was perched with her back to him on one of the triangular platforms that braced the corners of the pool. She had a mane of brown, curling hair and was tanned honey-brown. He could see how the straps of her purple bikini top pressed into the softness of her shoulders. She was not chubby, but her curves were generous. His penis grew harder.
She was watching her younger friend swim breaststroke back and forth in the pool. Her friend was short and not quite slim, in a neat, smoothly-rounded way. Though her skin was creamy, there was a slight African cast to her features and in the way she kept her crisp black hair cropped short. Four strokes one way, four strokes back - it was not that big a pool. Her bikini was black.
The older one laughed. 'Faster!' Her friend obediently increased her speed.
'Faster, bitch!'
'I can't go any faster,' the younger one laughed.
The older one slipped down into the water and grabbed the younger. A splashy, laughing, half - submerged fight began while the older one tried to spank the younger's bottom. Lucas's penis grew so hard that it forced its way beyond the top of his trunks and across his flat, muscular abdomen as if it was longing to get acquainted with his navel.
The younger woman scrambled out of the pool and ran into next door's Victorian conservatory pursued by her friend, who managed to land one or two slaps. The glass of the conservatory was obscured by whitewash roughly painted on from the inside, and Lucas was left with nothing to look at but wet footprints across the patio. His penis thrilled and demanded attention. He sighed, slipped out of the trunks, picked up a box of tissues, and lay down on his bed.
*
Next day, Lucas was walking back to his house from the shops when he saw the younger one coming towards him. She was wearing short shorts and a khaki tank top. He struggled to look anywhere but at her legs, and willed himself not to blush.
When he glanced at her he saw that she was waiting for him at her garden gate. From close up her face was tomboyish, in a pretty, dark-eyed way. The smile on her full, beautifully sculpted lips broadened. She looked amused. She said, 'Hey.'
'Hi.'
'My name's Marguerite. Officially. But people call me Gerry.'
'I'm Lucas.'
'Listen, Lucas, would you like to use our pool while the weather's so hot?'
'Oh. Yes.' He was confused by the way she seemed to find his shyness entertaining. 'Thank you. When...?'
'Any time.' She turned and headed for her front door. 'OK. See ya, Lukey-boy.'
It was almost as if she knew that he hated being called Lukey.
*
Two days went by. On the third, Lucas made a decision, and went out and bought himself a replacement pair of racing trunks in a roomy size. On the fourth, with just a few days left before he would leave for university, he screwed up his courage, and rang the next-door doorbell.
He stood on the doorstep holding a rolled-up towel, wishing he'd worn something more stylish than a T-shirt, and almost hoping that the two women were out.
The older one answered the door. Lucas said, 'Hi.'
'Yes. Come in.' It was as if he had come to read the meter.
She was strong-featured, attractive without being exactly pretty, and her brows were gathered in a frown. 'I'm Carla.'
Lucas had hoped she would be wearing her bikini, but she had on her everyday car-restoring jeans and check shirt with the sleeves rolled up. A heavy watch was on her wrist, on a hide strap.
After the sunlight outside, the hall was dark and cool. He stood, feeling awkward. A faint buzzing came from above. Carla shouted up the broad wooden stairs, 'Gerry! It's Lucas.'
A voice called down, 'I'm in the middle of shaving my pits.'
'Hmph.' Carla could not suppress a smile. 'That's no excuse. Come and say hello. It was your idea to ask him round.'
Gerry's riveting legs came into view as she trotted a few steps down the stairs. Lucas saw that she was wearing a pair of filthy trainers, but an enormous brass electrolier hung in the stairwell and hid her upper half. She ducked down to look at him.
'Hey boy!' Her gaze flickered over Lucas's torso. Today her tank-top was a faded navy one, with oily smudges from motor maintenance.
'Hello,' Lucas replied.
'We're taking a short break from car-bodging. Have fun in the pool. See ya!' The legs turned and scampered upstairs.
Carla said, 'Just go straight on and out through the conservatory. We never bodge, by the way.'
A few minutes later Lucas was floating on his back, alone in sun-warmed water, eyes closed, wondering what he had expected to happen. He'd had some vague images beforehand, of himself splashing about, clowning while the two women laughed at his jokes and fell slightly in love with him. They might both have been impressed with his body - he was starting to win at a high level now, and had the build of a serious swimmer.
He opened his eyes and let his legs swing below him. As he stood upright he found himself looking up at the house. The two women were standing at an upstairs window, apparently debating. Carla shrugged and made a gesture in his direction.
They mustn't see him staring. He flipped forward, twisted, and swam a couple of strokes underwater, then started methodically swimming butterfly stroke from one end of the small pool to the other, three strokes each way
